


What Lies Beneath

by Snake (Fatality145)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M, ME3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatality145/pseuds/Snake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The transition from words to touch isn't always smooth, but, luckily, Kaidan and Shepard want it just as much as the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Lies Beneath

The smirk behind his hand of cards was obvious in his eyes, the tapping of his lead-heeled boot against the floor; how he would forcibly relax his face to poker each time he lowered the hand to take a sip of Turian whiskey from an oil smudged glass.

 

                “James,” Garrus started, sitting back in his chair at the poker table, talons wrapped around his own glass, cards in the other hand, “Get that look off your face, you aren’t going to be walking away a richer man, here,”

 

                Vega huffed a laugh, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the edge, tipping a shoulder.

 

                “I dunno about that. Could be bluffin’,”

 

                “You have a horrible poker face,”

 

                “Double-bluff?”

 

                “You aren’t smart enough for that,” Vakarian gave the Turian equivalent of a shit-eating grin matched with the purposely cold tone.

 

                “You hurt me, Scars,” Dramatically, James clutched into the left side of his shirt, utterly pained expression on his face, earning a kicked shin beneath the table and two, low chuckles from Shepard and Kaidan from across the table.

 

                The Commander had that rare cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling out from his slightly parted lips. A gift; rich tobacco infused with gorgeous flavours. It wasn’t usually his kind of thing, but he thought, why not, once James has arranged this small tournament between them. Though, it was more to settle the little, friendly rivalry between the LT and the Archangel.

 

                Rivulets of condensation seeped down the side of Kaidan’s glass, against his fingers, staring over his cards. It wasn’t looking good, glancing over to Garrus’ small but steadily-and-continually growing pile of credits. Despite not being all that knowledgeable of earthen custom, he took up poker well. _Too_ damn well for it to be his first time playing.

 

                ‘ _I’d beat you at any game you can name, Vega_ ,’ He had said, ‘ _Hell, I beat Shepard, even with that gorgeous Spectre-Status Black Widow of his, calibrated by yours truly_ ,’

 

                Of course, James was quick to jump to the idea, and a few rounds of poker would do them all good, to unwind once back from babysitting the Council for a while. Not too good on their wallets, however, he found, groaning each time Garrus would lay down a flush or full house, looking all too content with himself.

 

                “Cheer up, James,” Garrus murmured, gathering up the cards, again –the deck heavy with two sets - and his winnings, “This money _is_ going to a good cause,”

 

                “Oh, yeah?” Cocking a brow with slight incredulity, Vega placed his hand down on the new cards given his way, sliding them over.

 

                “Definitely. Might buy a few rounds of those… What did you call them? _Cervesas_? When we’re next at a bar,”

 

                He beamed, at that, stupid grin crossing his mouth.

 

                “I’m gonna’ hold you to that, Vakarian—“

 

                “Just don’t come back to the Normandy off your face. I don’t want to catch you hurling all over the Armoury,” Shepard interjected, poking fun, almost able to hear Cortez yelling ‘ _Again_ ,’ in addition.

 

                “Yeah, that’s… not nice for Steve to clean up, you know,” Kaidan spoke, small, lopsided smirk quirking his lips - alcohol beginning to colour his features - as Vega gave the three of them looks, brow flat.

 

                “What’s this? Pick-On-Vega Night?” James exclaimed with a rough sigh, picking up his cards and narrowing his eyes at the hand as the others checked their own.

 

                “Place your bets, boys,” Garrus said, spreading the cards out in his grip, tilting his head.

 

                Going all out, Vega placed down a large sum, smug look on his face.

 

                “Three hundred. What you got, bird-boy?”

 

                “Can buy a nice set of gear with all of this when I win it off you… _Four_ hundred,”

 

                “Oho. Now it’s getting’ good,”

 

                Taking a deep drag of the cigarette, the embers burning down to the butt, the smoke pleasing down his throat, Shepard’s eyes were downcast at his hand, snuffling out the end of the stick in one of the ashtrays.

 

                “And how about you two?” Garrus asked.

 

                Scratching his fingers over his jaw, Kaidan hummed, the sound abruptly cutting off once he felt a firm but gentle hand on his knee, fingertips that he knew were calloused pressing into his fatigues. He gave John a sidelong glance, his fingers tense around the cards, receiving a small smile in return.

 

                These touches were still strange, between them, definitely not unpleasant or unwanted, but it was hard for the Major to pinpoint the time where they transitioned from words to touch. Nothing heavy, not yet, anyway, though they were becoming lingering, the looks between them more deep.

 

                His eyes strayed down to the freckle near the base of the man’s neck, having thought about kissing it too many times for it to be normal; the strong tendons of his throat which lead down to sculpted collarbones which he had only fleetingly caught sight of a few times, quietly yearning.

 

                The Galaxy may be nearing the apex of its destruction, but, even then, there were things that couldn’t be forced, or things he didn’t want to force. And, while he knew Shepard better than anyone, there was still so much he _didn’t_ know, but wanted to.

 

                Shepard was the kind of person who said so much with so little, when it wasn’t necessary, and, sometimes, all of what he had to say was hard to catch, a small shiver rolling down Kaidan’s spine as that hand moved up his thigh, slightly.

 

                “Hellooo?” Vega waved a hand in front of the Major’s faintly dreamy face, snapping him out of his reverie, that hand on his leg gone all too soon to be placed back on the table.

 

                “What’s up with you?”

 

                “Uh…” Biting into the inside of his cheek, Kaidan looked back at his cards, shifting in his seat.

 

                “I fold,” Shepard butt in, placing his cards face down on the table and pushing himself up from his seat, throwing back the rest of his drink with a soft groan at the burn.

 

                “Aw, that it, Loco?” Vega asked, slumping back, “Luck run out for the Great Commander Shepard?”

 

                “Guess so. I’d rather not have my money flushed out by this guy,” Shepard jerked his thumb to Garrus, “Like you are,” He grinned.

 

                “Good plan, Shepard,” The Turian shrugged.

 

                “Keep it friendly. No blood on the green,”

 

                “Can’t promise anythin’, Commander,” Crossing an arm behind his head, he and Kaidan – looking a little scandalised and flushed (if asked, he would just blame it on the whisky) – watching him slink out of the lounge, the latter’s sights lingering on the doorway from which he left.

 

                “Major,”

 

                Looking back to James, brow raised, Kaidan glanced down to where the LT pointed at Shepard’s hand, reaching over to flip them face up.

 

                “…Huh,”

 

                Five of a Kind –Aces. The three of them stared at the hand silently for a few moments before Garrus laughed, a gravelly sound, shaking his head.

 

                “That Shepard,” Too damn modest for his own good.

 

                “Guess it was a lucky call, with him backin’ out with a hand like that,” Vega whistled, turning his attention back to Kaidan, “You gonna’ fold, too?”

 

                Pursing his lips, the Major took another look at his cards before placing them down, too.

 

                “Yeah, actually,”

 

                “You guys are no fun,”

 

                Sitting up from his chair, Kaidan waved his hands.

 

                “Sorry,” He apologised. Now, he thought, he had somewhere more important to be, somewhere he _needed_ to be.

 

                James snorted, disregarding it as he, too, left, leaving him and Garrus at the table. The Turian tilted, reaching over and turning the other hand, instantly covering his face with a clawed palm, groaning.

 

                “I will never understand humans,” He sighed, “Calling out of a game like that with two of the best hands. A Five of a Kind and a Straight Flush,”

 

                “Eh. Better for me. S’only us, now, Scars,” Vega said, not too fussed, if anything – pleased.

 

                “Let’s see your game, then,”

 

                “Read ‘em and weep,” He slid his hand out, showing a Straight and crossing his arms over his chest, “What you got?”

 

                “Ooh… no…”

 

                “What? Did I win?”

 

                “Of course not,” Garrus stretched out an arm, placing down his Flush of Spades, and scooping up the credits.

 

                Vega’s groan of defeat would have been audible in the deepest bowels of the Normandy.

 

\--

 

Showers were a retreat, of sorts, giving Shepard those few, fleeting moments of just him, the perpetual humming of the Normandy, and the much too hot water, toggled to such to bleed the heat through his heavy skin weaves, into his tense muscles.

 

                It brought him into his head, which wasn’t always a welcoming experience. Though he wasn’t one to purposely dwell, his thoughts had a way of bringing back the more painful or frustrating facets into his consciousness.

 

                The steam rose off his skin in thick plumes, fogging up the mirror and leaving droplets of water on the steel walls. Tipping his head down, Shepard half-hooded his eyes, the steadily cooling aqua running down the back of his buzzed scalp, the nape of his neck, between his hard shoulder blades and down to his narrow waist and legs.

 

                His dog tags, still around his neck, reflected in the down light above his head, lifting one hand up and curling his fingers into the chain. He held the small plates of metal in his palm, sliding his thumb over the lettering pressed into them, along the N7 symbol.

 

                It was strange, almost, two tags displaying all that he was – he thought, anyway, at least – held over his heart at every single moment, the only thing that would be able to recall him if everything were to be lost, if he were to lose himself.

 

                “…Room for one more?”

 

                The voice caught him off-guard, but he didn’t flinch. He never flinched, looking over his shoulder, only then noticing that the door to the small bathroom had slid open, cool out draft sweeping into the heated room.

 

                Kaidan leant against the doorway, eyes meeting his own, shirtless, extra towel in hand. Softly laughing, the sound swallowed up by the noise of the shower, Shepard turned back forward.

 

                “Water’s cooling down,”

 

                “Nothing I’m not used to,” Dropping the towel aside, the Major began to shed the rest of his clothes. Truth be told, he had been standing out in Shepard’s room for too many minutes, just psyching himself up. He was afraid that, by the time he had, Shepard would be done with his shower.

 

                It was the first time he had seen Shepard naked, and he couldn’t deny it was a breathtaking sight. The faint, lingering cybernetic scars embedded in his skin, webs of orange branching out along his spine, the smooth curve of vertebrae leading down the expanse of his back to two dimples at the base, accented by the palpable bones of his hips.

 

                Battle scars were plenty, the healed, rend flesh in dips and rises along his ribs, lighter in contrast to the tanned skin in which they lay. His scars, his body, spoke far beyond words of what he had accomplished, what he’d failed, in Shepard’s own eyes, at least. He wanted to touch them, with his fingers, with his tongue and lips, to see if they were still sensitive, to delve into the memories each of them held. Were they rough, or soft? Did serrated or fine edging line them?

 

                Small mounds of darker skin were visible along his shoulder blades, over his flank, freckles, more that he wanted to kiss, those he only now knew existed, to trace constellations between them with his bare fingertips.

 

                While gorgeous, he also seemed… vulnerable, shed of his second skin, his armour, like an extension of himself. He was smaller, and, even without the extra weight, his shoulders seemed heavier, more curled into himself, the slump in his spine and bend in his knee baring much.

 

                It was something to see, definitely, and Kaidan could understand why he wouldn’t want anyone to see him like that. He had to keep face. That’s who he was; the figurehead of the Galaxy. Any weakness shown would prove to crack through the entirety of its strength. So much was riding on this one man, alone.

 

                But he didn’t see it as weakness, not exactly. It was human. And that was all Shepard was, when it came down to it. More extraordinary than most, of course, but human none the less. This was natural, the temporarily-down shell around the Commander giving him a deeper insight into the man than he had ever known.

 

                The sudden shift of John’s shoulders reminded him that he was blatantly staring, clearing his throat and shucking out of his boots and pants, about to take off his dog tags before catching sight of the silver chain around the other’s neck and opting to keep them on.

 

                Stepping in, the door sliding shut behind him, Kaidan breathed in the steam, a cleanliness, mixed with fading gunpowder and dried cruor. While it might have been hard to breathe, for some, he didn’t feel restricted; he wanted to be there, more than anything, at that moment, lifting a hand to Shepard’s back.

 

                It hovered, a moment, tentatively, before gliding over one of those scars, feeling the muscle beneath go ridged until relaxing, Shepard’s shoulders rising and falling with silent, steady breaths.

 

                He made to step forward, to give Kaidan room beneath the water, suitably stopped by a hand over his shoulder, the other falling into the troughs of his ribs, the Major content with where he was, the stray beads of water flecking his chest and thighs.

 

                “Tense?”

 

                “No,”

 

                It didn’t take a genius to realize that was an obvious lie, one that had been told many times before. Shepard was, almost, never relaxed. Even in his overly light sleep, he still had a guard about himself, and, at that moment, Kaidan could feel it beneath his hands, beneath the skin warmed by cybernetics rather than the water.

 

                Pressing his thumbs into his shoulders, Kaidan was graced with a low groan, the sound rumbling deep in the other’s core, beginning to slowly work his hands down the dip of his spine. He didn’t even manage to get half way before Shepard shrugged off his hands, turning around to face him.

 

                Droplets stuck to his eyelashes, dripping over his slightly parted lips, slicking his faintly flushed skin, and Kaidan felt his breath leave him, again, as he looked back, taking in each detail as if he only had short time with the sight.

 

                His skin rose in small bumps where Shepard’s fingers met with his chest, fingertips softened by the water. The digits curled around the dog tags hanging down from his neck, clouded, azure eyes regarding the plates before closing around them.

 

                The chain pressed into Kaidan’s nape as it was tugged, all too willingly following them and ducking in to meet Shepard’s lips with his own, beneath the lukewarm shower.

 

                He stepped closer, bracing one palm on the slippery wall before him, the other hand hanging by his side, itching to touch, but too preoccupied with the slow kiss to steel himself. Water past between their lips as they worked against each other. That was still in the learning phase, learning one another’s movement, their style, but they learnt quick.

 

Knowing how the other worked in physical combat and how they worked physically, personally, was both similar and different at the same time, in that some parts were reflected in either, ingrained.

 

                Shepard, while thorough, as expected, was gentle, as unexpected, tentative, even, as he felt over Kaidan’s ribs with his hands, moving to his back. It was one of those things the Major didn’t know about him; where he’d been and what he’d done before they had met.

 

At most, Kaidan knew he was Earthborn, had a hard youth to grow up in, run-ins with gangs. It wasn’t something he talked about, or wanted to, but, even to someone like Kaidan, it didn’t seem like an optimal upbringing to get personal in – physical, yes, but maybe this was something new to Shepard, maybe that was why it had taken so long for them to get together.

 

                While every part of him said to not regret a thing, live a soldiers life and just do what he felt, as the day could be his last, it was better to be safe than sorry, the Commander’s fingers falling into the dip of the other’s spine, feeling a shiver run through his back as he tipped his head, deepening the kiss.

 

                There was distance between them, as though they were holding each other at half-arm’s length, the water streaming down, growing colder. Neither seemed to care, though.

 

                A groan he couldn’t bite back came from Kaidan as his tongue slid over the other’s, able to taste the flavoured smoke on him and bringing his free hand down, lightly holding the side of Shepard’s waist. He quickly realized that touch wasn’t enough as he brought his other arm back, wrapping it around him, along the bottom of his ribs, where his torso began to narrow.

 

                Shepard’s low, warm breath past their lips, his forehead leaning on Kaidan’s, their eyes still shut as he closed the gap between them. The full warmth of the Commander’s cybernetics pressed against him, half-hard length bumping the man’s hip, feeling the other’s against brush the apex of his inner thigh.

 

                There was a muted hunger in the way Shepard shifted against him, Kaidan tipping his head aside as the dark bristles of the Commander’s facial hair rubbed the skin of his jaw, the soft tip of a silver tongue tracing down the crux to his throat. Shepard could feel the beating pulse beneath his lips, feel it beneath his hand pressed to the man’s left shoulder, the rhythm heightening as his teeth scathed fleetingly over the point.

 

                Blood ran south through their veins, the heat a heavy juxtaposition with the shower that was now cold. Kissing over the hard muscle that stretched from Kaidan’s shoulder to the column of his throat, Shepard leant back up, taking his face in either of his hands and slanting their mouths together, again.

 

                It was sweet, soft, but held that want, expressed in the elevated breaths they took of each other. Near breathless, Kaidan pulled back, unwilling to break their tight contact, just far enough to look at him, the tips of their noses brushing together.

 

                The look in Shepard’s eyes wasn’t one he had seen before, one that he longed to see, but only now had the chance to. It was a mix of excitement, yearning, with underlying trepidation and worry. In someone who could be so stoic, so steadfast, at times, more often than not, the lack of passiveness might have been startling, to anyone else.

 

                “I want this, John… want _you_ ,”

 

                There were only a few people who used his first name, known Galaxy wide as Commander Shepard, his expression softening, only those closest to him thinking of using it, Kaidan being one of them.

 

                “Yeah… me too,” He eventually managed, bringing one hand away from him to toggle the shower, cutting off the icy water.

 

                They stood, dripping, Shepard’s eyes averted to the drain as the aqua drizzled down with a gurgle. His feet were planted, and, for someone always on the move, with always somewhere to go, something to do, hesitation was an alien feeling.

 

                “Come on,” Hand taken up by the Major’s, his legs moved on their own accord, light, walking after him as he was lead on, back into his room.

 

                His private terminal was flashing, notice of a message, instinctively reaching out to touch it as he was pulled past. Noting this, Kaidan turned, grabbing the man’s wrist with his other hand and bringing it back, moving it to have the palm press against his own chest.

 

                “…It can wait. If it was important, EDI would have said so,” He murmured, soothingly, the back of his knees meeting the end of the bed. Kaidan would have to make up for both of their averseness, keeping his hold on Shepard as he climbed onto the bed, the water stuck to his skin sinking into the covers, the material smoothed and softened from use.

 

                Once Shepard made to follow him, he let him go, scooting back, beckoning him forward with a twist of his fingers. One knee up on the bed, hands pressed into it, a bead of water dripping down the bridge of his nose and off the tip, Shepard watched him, eyes grazing down the length of his body, lingering on the scars, the curves of muscle and flesh, before curling his digits around his ankle, feeling along his calf and looking back up at him.

 

                His hair was dishevelled by the water, a few of the dark curls weight down on his forehead, his lips pulled up in one corner, stretching the small, healed wound over the side of them.

 

                It was as close to picture perfect as it was going to be, moving up to press their bodies together, again. Shepard slid an arm around his neck as hands snaked up his back, shifting them onto their sides, facing each other, caught in a lip lock, fingers tracing and exploring contours, becoming familiar.

 

                Their hips slot flush against one another, erections pushed up against their stomachs, chest to chest, pulse to pulse. Shepard strayed his hand down, holding under Kaidan’s thigh and lingering a moment before pulling it up, the other complying instantly and hooking his knee over his hip, bringing them closer.

 

                From there, Shepard touched up, along his flank, the smooth, round curve, something he near constantly bade for, to the small of his back, pressing his fingers into the dimples at the base of his spine, before moving back down to the swell of his ass, squeezing it in his hand.

 

                Trying to control his breath, Kaidan mouthed along the hard line of the Commander’s jaw, to the point just beneath his ear, the touch serving to induce a shiver from him. He would have to keep that in mind. Even a man like Shepard, skin turned to steel through war’s influence, would have to have some not-so obvious, sensitive spots.

 

                Shepard gave a deep groan, rolling his hips against the other’s, the leg around his waist tightening and tensing as his fingers drifted in between, the pad of his digit rubbing over his entrance.

 

                “Kaidan…” He said, voice husky against his shoulder, looking back at the Major, who had a light dusting of red along the bridge of his nose.

 

                “…What--? Ah..” Glancing over his shoulder to the bedside table, Kaidan ran the back of his knuckles down the other’s side. “Do you…?”

 

                “Yeah..”

 

                With that, he pulled himself away, slightly, the heel of his foot digging into the small of Shepard’s back, and slid open the drawer, pushing a few of the things aside until he found a small, clear tube, closing the table and turning back. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, really, it _was_ Shepard’s bedroom, after all. Ready for anything.

 

                “Here,”

 

                Humming his thanks, Shepard took the bottle from him, pressing a light kiss to his lips in return, Kaidan leaning forward to make it stay before he pulled back, flicking open the cap of the lube with his thumb.

 

                Relaxing back into the bed, he watched Shepard drizzle the velvety liquid over his fingers, biting lightly into his lip as he slicked it along. Squeezing some into his palm, the Commander tossed the tube aside before reaching down, stroking over his length, then Kaidan’s, the man’s breath hitching as he got to the head, rubbing into the place just beneath it. Gritting his teeth, softly, Kaidan shifted his hips forward, into the grip, the terse breath he let out once it was gone swallowed up by the lips on his own.

 

                    His arms were back around him, nails scratching lightly over his ribs, the knee at his hip riding up higher once he felt the fingers slick over him, muscles in his gut twitching in anticipation.

 

                “Kaidan, you’ll… tell me if—“

 

                “I’m not going to,” He breathily laughed, running his hand over the side of Shepard’s buzzed scalp, hearing a small huff from him before he buried his face into his neck, sliding two of the fingers in. Bringing himself to lax, Kaidan rolled his hips back with a sharp breath, urging the fingers in deeper up to the knuckle. Stilling, Shepard let him get used to the feel, the stretch, mouthing at his throat to distract him until the nails sunk into his back, again, before being smoothed over, taking his fingers out.

 

                He kissed up the column of his neck, pushing the fingers back in, burying his nose into the Major’s hair and taking a deep breathe of it. It smelt of the prior days’ missions; gunpowder, blood, iron, and that scent that was irrevocably _him_ , the smell indefinitely locked into his head.

 

                The body in his arms tensed up as he spread the digits, curling them against his walls, the purely sultry moan coming from Kaidan making him groan in turn, the feeling washing down through his system to his groin, his hard prick oozing sluggishly against the other’s belly.

 

                Kaidan’s toes curled, arching his hips forward and back onto the fingers, panting softly, hotly over the hollow of Shepard’s throat, choking up each time he would scathe that one spot to make him melt. He wouldn’t be able to say how many times he had gotten off merely from the thought of what was now happening to him.

 

                “ _Shepard_ ,” He mumbled into his neck, reaching down and taking the man’s length in hand, stroking him, the action smoothed by the lube but shaky by his twitching grip. His thumb slid over the tip, tracing over the pulsing veins.

 

                Their bodies moved together, bending, trembling, curving, both hot and heavy, the water on their skin being replaced by beads of sweat. A short curse past Shepard’s lips, taking his fingers out, again, trying to gather himself and taking a hold of the Major’s wrist, stopping his hand. The look he got back was irresistible, Kaidan’s lips parted and wet by his tongue, his usually bright eyes dark, hungry, narrowed in the edges, the flush accenting his features.

 

                Words weren’t necessary, the two of them peeling away from each other, Kaidan rolling onto his belly, palms pressed into the covers either side of him. He leered back at the Commander, cheek against the damp sheets, as Shepard pulled up, bracing his knees by his hips and running calloused hands down the expanse of his back.

 

                The underside of his cock lay against the curve of Kaidan’s ass, and he had to swear, looking down at him, it was one of the most enticing views he got to experience. As much as he would like to, he would never be able to get the ticking timer out of his head. They didn’t have all the time in the world, it wasn’t just him, Kaidan, the stars above them, and the undulating mass effect fields, with nothing else.

 

While he would give anything to simply have the time just to look at him, just to touch him and find out everything that his body had to offer, they, and everyone, were running on borrowed time, Shepard ducking over and laying a kiss to the other’s shoulder blade as he gripped his hips, lifting them up from the bed to meet his own.

 

                “Ready…?”

 

                Bending one arm beneath his head, the Major pressed his face into the crease of his elbow, nodding, a drop of pre-come dripping from the head of his prick, his whole lower half tensing up, taking a sharp breath  once Shepard began pushing into him. This was what he’d wanted, for so long, his eyes fluttering shut, lifting his hips up further, despite the small jags of pain.

 

                Kaidan’s body felt perfect for him, Shepard thought, teeth biting into his lower lip as he watched himself sheath inside the other, hot and tight. Sweat crept down the slant of the Major’s back, a hand smoothing up his flank, massaging over the flexing muscles wound around his ribs, his name tripping from Shepard’s open mouth as he pressed in to the hilt.

 

                Biting into his forearm, muffling a moan, Kaidan reached an arm back, grabbing onto one of the man’s wrists, the one at his hip, a wordless request for him to continue. There was no satiety in stasis, and, while he would want this to go for as long as possible, they didn’t have that luxury. Besides, with the way Shepard had worked him up to this point, it wouldn’t last long, but it would still be what he wanted.

 

                Placing the heel of his hand between the Major’s shoulder blades, Shepard pulled back, both of them filling the otherwise noiseless cabin with their sounds. Arching over him, he began the slow pace, his chest rising and falling in deep breath down his dry throat, the top of his thighs pressing against Kaidan’s ass each time he rolled his hips forward.

 

One hand of his curled into the covers by his side, holding himself up as he began planting kisses over the back of the man’s neck, over the L2 implant beneath the skin, the taste of him salty on his tongue.

 

                Apparently, it was another sensitive spot, Kaidan twitching and tightening around him with a gritty shadow of a sound, hair at the nape standing on edge, the flesh prickling harshly, a pulse of biotic blue rolling down from head to toe. Where Shepard’s skin met his, there were small jolts of electricity, pleasurable, at any rate, biting at the shell of his ear.

 

                It might not have been optimal conditions, with the end of the world looming over their heads, but, as far as Shepard was concerned, it was perfect anyway, the two of them, at that moment, almost able to, but not quite, forget everything else around them, working in rhythm, muscle and scarred flesh.

 

                Lifting his hand, Kaidan clasped the back of Shepard’s skull, holding him to himself, keeping him close, turning his head and looking back at him, kiss-bruised lips apart, biotic blue glowing in his eyes, waves of it washing over his skin. Giving an unrestrained groan, John stretched out his back over the other, crushing their mouths together, his chest brushing against his shoulders, the body under him quaking as he angled his thrusts, brushing over that spot.

 

                Neither anticipated that it would last long, a tryst that both were silently desperate for, finally unfolding, and, despite that, they wouldn’t change it, Shepard’s hand moving beneath the other, curling his fingers around his length and jerking him in time with the movements.

 

                The sound Kaidan had made as he came undone convinced him he would definitely need to hear it so many more times, like husky velvet in his ears, the look on his face pristine, the way his body shook and trembled, clenching up, the bursts of biotic power flaring off his skin, Shepard following close behind him with a shudder and moan of his own.

 

                Shallow panting filled the Captain’s quarters, the glow of the aquarium reflecting off their sweat sheened bodies, Kaidan’s twitching muscles slowly relaxing, one by one, as he caught his breath, Shepard pushed up above him, his fingers curled tightly into the covers deliberately releasing.

 

                Gravity eventually came back to them, the situation as a whole, the two of them, where they stood, now, and what was to come. It was uncertain, worrying, but exciting and captivating. Through the swirl of everything, Kaidan looked back at the other, again, the blue fading from his irises with a blink of his eyes, the two of them sharing that one, peaceful smile they’d been waiting for.

 

                The sleep Shepard got that night was the best he had had in too long for him to remember.

 

\--

 

                _‘Say… you, uh.. you left without waking me,’_

_‘Didn’t have the heart,’_

_A soft laugh._

_‘Well, thanks, but… Next time? Ah… wake me,’_

**Author's Note:**

> PS. I DON'T KNOW POKER RULES SO I PROBABLY GOT IT WRONG SOB.


End file.
